


Soundless

by RivetingFabrications



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Comfort, Intercrural Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6271516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RivetingFabrications/pseuds/RivetingFabrications
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason confides in Tim without words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soundless

Tim’s tongue swipes briefly across his lower lip, eyes already adjusted to the semi-darkness to focus on the visitor who had let himself into his apartment through the window despite already having a key.

“Jason?” he half-whispers, spine already gently tingling with something that’s a heady concoction of nerves. Jason doesn’t drop by often since his patrols tend to frequent the darker parts of the docks and Crime Alley, but he notices that Jason’s signature helmet isn’t anywhere to be seen nor his domino.

Soundlessly, Jason moves towards the bed, crossing the room in oddly silent, surefooted steps. Tim cocks his head up, and Jason obliges the unasked question. He tilts his head down, palm gently pressing against the mattress, dipping it a little, and meeting Tim’s lips in a quiet kiss that sets Tim’s nerves alight with a pleasurable hum. Hesitantly, Tim’s hand rests atop Jason’s, before Jason slowly curves his hand so that it rests palm up, fingers tangling with Tim’s as he slowly pushes Tim back into the pillows.

“Did something happen?” he asks softly, threading his fingers into Jason’s hair. Jason’s eyes are unreadable, but Tim knows his tells well enough that he can sense a faint anger and sadness in them. Then the jade-flecked eyes close shut, and wordlessly Jason presses Tim back into the mattress. Tim understands; if Jason doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t push it.

His fingers tangle into Jason’s messy curls, grounding his nighttime visitor, silently reminding him that Tim is here in his arms for him. A small, content sigh slips from his parted mouth when his fingers skim over the Kevlar armor, detecting no clues of injuries or wounds that might need tending to. Jason smells of Gotham, old cigarette smoke grazing his skin, of asphalt and gravel but with a trace of mint when his tongue traces the seam of Tim’s lips. Tim manages to free his other arm from beneath the covers, but then Jason clasps the newly freed wrist in a gentle but firm grip, pinning it to the bed.

Jason’s calloused fingers slowly stroke his pulse point, even as Tim groans softly when his lover’s tongue presses deeply into his mouth, remapping it once again and tracing the points of his teeth. His own tongue shyly darts out to play, the only noise in the room the quiet shuffle of blankets and the slow, languid noises of their open-mouthed kisses. It’s slow for once, not fast and frantic, and the concept is admittedly foreign enough for Tim that when they break apart for air, Tim has to hold back from asking once again if Jason is all right.

 In the silence, they trade little short puffs of air that graze each other’s lips, foreheads pressed together. Tim finally pulls back a little to nose at the underside of Jason’s jaw, tongue lapping at the faint hint of salt on tanned, scarred skin. Jason shudders once, before Tim gently pries his wrist away from Jason’s loose grasp. He tugs away the covers, lifting them enough for Jason to burrow under them with him.

Jason follows his tacit direction willingly; in mere seconds he’s spooning Tim, arms caging him in an unbreakable grasp as he jerkily inhales Tim’s scent, nuzzling his hair and breathing deeply, trying to center himself. Tim shifts a little, pressing his bottom against the curve of Jason’s hips, and stifles a quiet moan when Jason’s uncompromising arms embrace him tighter. He manages to worm a hand under the pillow, tugging out the bottle of lube. Predicting him, Jason takes it from him, and Tim hears the snap of the bottle and a hand tugging down the loose waistband of his pants and briefs all at once. He whines softly, his eyes fluttering shut as a hand grips his member. He sighs, rocking back, his own hand snaking around to tug futilely at Jason’s belt buckle. Jason seems not to like this; he nudges Tim over so that he’s belly down, face pressed into his pillow as Jason continues to stroke him almost too slowly, not quite enough friction but enough to still feel amazing.

“Jason,” he breathes softly, arching into the touch. A catch in the older man’s breath – Tim is rewarded with the sound of a belt buckle, and then the sudden depression in the bed when Jason’s thigh holsters hit the sheets. Tim gasps a little at the feel of lube drizzling between his thighs, his hips twitching into Jason’s fist.

Jason’s mouth presses against the back of Tim’s neck, lapping at the dip of his shoulder, and Tim fights back a very vocal moan as he feels the hardness of Jason’s teeth pressing into his skin, but never biting or even nipping, just a presence before he realizes that Jason is mouthing voiceless words into his skin, smearing what he can’t say into his pores, even as his erection grazes Tim’s wet inner thigh.

Tim clenches his legs together, groaning at the slide of Jason’s shaft between his closed thighs, lube easing the way. Occasionally the length will brush the underside of his balls, and when Jason starts out a slow, heavy rhythm of stroking him in counterpoint to his slick thrusts, Tim muffles his pants and whimpers into the pillow. The slow glide of Jason’s cock is warm and heated, Jason’s hips slowly working back and forth and his lips still mouthing soundlessly into Tim’s nape. Tim manages to twist his head out from the downy give of the pillow as he starts to reach his orgasm, Jason’s hand still continuing to pump him wetly.

“Please,” he whispers, arching once more. “Please, Jay.”

Jason shudders, and then his fist squeezes Tim’s weeping member, and just like that, Tim spills with a muffled groan, Jason stroking him through the release. Jason’s hips stutter, grinding more than thrusting against Tim. Tim’s pale thighs tighten around the hard length between them, and then Jason buries his teeth into Tim’s shoulder blade, hissing as he stripes Tim’s inner thighs a pearly white.

Tim’s muscles quiver a little from the waves of his orgasm, boneless in Jason’s hands. The huge, gentle hands draw him close to his lover’s chest, and Tim shivers when he rubs his thighs together, feeling the sticky gobs of come already beginning to dry. Jason peppers silent kisses along his collarbone, and Tim’s fingers finally find Jason’s arm to clasp onto, fingers entwining. Jason’s breaths slowly begin to even out, exhaustion bleeding from him in waves, and Tim hopes that for tonight Jason will rest easy, whatever troubling him drawn from his thoughts like venom from a snakebite. He knows they will be sticky and messy tomorrow morning, but for now it is enough, that Jason came to him of his own volition, that he trusts Tim enough with this.

Tim burrows under the comforter, raising Jason’s limp hand to kiss his knuckles, praying silently that Jason stays come morning.

If in the morning newspaper, Tim happens to see a short article about a mother who overdosed and left her son behind, he makes a brief phone call to Bruce and says nothing else on the matter.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on  [tumblr](http://rivetingfabrications.tumblr.com/) ! Hope you guys enjoyed, messages and kudos always deeply appreciated.
> 
> On another note, for those of you who read Insatiable, enough people requested for me to decide on doing a sequel, so I guess if you're into robinpile stay tuned cuz it should be written soon hopefully.


End file.
